


Falling

by Torched22



Category: Broadchurch
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, F/M, First Kiss, First Time, Medical Conditions
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-27
Updated: 2019-11-27
Packaged: 2021-02-26 02:47:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,638
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21586336
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Torched22/pseuds/Torched22
Summary: Alec Hardy is a private man, but one night, Ellie manages to see him without his protective walls, without his armor, and he manages to let her see more.
Relationships: Alec Hardy/Ellie Miller
Comments: 6
Kudos: 112





	Falling

They'd gotten familiar with one another. If you had told Ellie Miller, in the beginning, that Alec Hardy would ever warm up to her she would have laughed in your face. But alas, here they were. Her life was in tatters, on display for all to see in court. Her husband was a murderer. Her job was gone, really. All that remained was a darkness. The same darkness that she had first judged Alec for having. What she wanted was for him to change - become less thin and grouchy as it were. What actually ended up happening was quite the opposite. Now she understood her wary, misanthropic boss. She never wanted to.

She never wanted to worry about him either. He was too pale and large circles lived under his sunken eyes. It was a miracle she didn't realize from the outset that he was sick. Perhaps she thought that it was the stress of the case that was doing it. It partly was...

Luckily, they'd fallen into a pattern of comfortable dysfunction that suited them both well. 

She walked, unceremoniously, through the night, towards his flat, considering all of these things. Overanalyzing was her specialty after all. 

November was rounding the corner into December and the air was cutting and fresh. The breeze carried with it the salt-slick smell of the ocean and Miller felt bad for the Latimers. Everytime they go near the ocean now... how hard it must be...

As she walked, Ellie didn't really take into account that it was half past two in the morning. Neither she nor Hardy slept much anymore. Insomnia had become an unwelcome, but familiar frenemy. Also, it was nice walking around Broadchurch at night. As Ellie had learned during the investigation and subsequent trial, no one in this town seemed to actually rest at night. 

Nearing his makeshift home, she had to examine the actual reason she was here. She had to come up with something that sounded decent, because the truth sounded silly. At around 1:00, when she had managed to drift off, she had a horrid nightmare about Hardy. She dreamt that he'd taken his last breath - that he died. She awoke with a start, gripping her chest and frantically looking around in the dark. The memory of the dream haunted her and centered around Hardy, on his back, on the floor in his flat, eyes open and looking at nothing. It had scared her to action. 

Maybe she'd tell him that she just couldn't sleep and that it would be more productive to discuss the trial. Except...she didn't want to discuss the trial really. Her husband was a monster on parade. An ornament in a glass box that still breathed, when he ought to be deader than Danny. She wanted to kill him herself. And what did that make her? What was becoming of her? What would Hardy say if he knew her favorite daydream was stabbing Joe in the throat with a steak knife and twisting it until he sputtered to death on his own tainted blood?

'Who the hell am I?' she thought, walking up Hardy's steps and twisting the knob to his front door. It was automatic, like muscle memory. She should have knocked, she should have stopped, but she was on autopilot - her thoughts too loud to let her logic examine her actions. The light was on inside, he must be up. 

She walked inside, depositing her bag on the floor and shrugging off her traffic-cone-orange jacket. Mind still bouncing back and forth between tragedies, she turned the corner and...

Hardy was in bed, but he wasn't asleep. He was seated upright against his headboard. There was a flush on his cheeks, his coppery hair stuck out in all directions and his mouth was parted. At seeing her, he had folded in half, reaching for covers that had been kicked off. They barely clung to the bottom of the bed, and realizing he couldn't reach them, he sat back with resignation. He was naked. 

Ellie's brain stopped working. Her boss was in front of her, naked, his hard cock straining against his belly. Arousal screamed through her core and ricocheted violently inside of her. He was... He had been... jerking off. She should go. She should collapse into a puddle of muttered apologies before turning tail and running. But she was glued to the spot. Her eyes were huge and dark and easily readable to him. Her expression was rapt fascination and open want. When he realized this, his chest rose and fell faster and his cock twitched. 

He should be embarrassed. Right? Except...he didn't feel embarrassed. He felt heat and desire coming off his partner in waves. Had she been summoned here by his naughty fantasies? Was she psychic? Did she know that he had...ever so briefly... thought of her as he did this? 

The clock carried on, ticking and tocking between them in the dead of night. It felt as though she spent a lifetime there, stuck, unmoving, staring at the scene before her - burning it into her memory. Finally though, he took a shaky breath. It snapped her back to reality. His eyes never left hers. 

She blinked several times and wet her lips with her tongue. Before she knew it, words were coming out of her mouth, and they weren't the words she had planned on saying.

"Can I...?" she took a step forward and braced herself for the inevitable rejection. 

It never came. 

Instead, she heard Hardy's shaky voice say, "yes." 

She began walking towards the bed, unsure of where all of her reasoning and logic skills had gone. Where her common sense should have been was only desire; sweet and beckoning, rich and heady. Miller toed off her shoes and socks and climbed onto the bed. She threw a leg over him and straddled him but remained hovering. Her eyes were questioning and she fully expected him to panic at any moment. But he didn't. She lifted her left hand and brought it to the side of his face, caressing him, watching in awe as he closed his eyes and let out a sigh of relief. His skin was deceptively soft and the bristle of his stubble tickled her palm first, then her fingers, as her hand travelled downwards. 

Gathering every ounce of bravery she had, she dipped her head and he craned his up to meet her. His lips were just as soft as his skin and they parted for her - letting her in. He tasted of chamomile tea and desperation. His fingers were on her hips and he groaned into her mouth as he kissed her back fervently. She ran her hands through his feather-soft hair and felt desperate to never break this connection. Unfortunately, both of them had to breathe, had to re-center themselves. They reluctantly broke apart and she looked into his blown eyes. All the words he could never find the strength to say lived there. His breathing was ragged and uneven, and after looking at her for a long moment, he moved to kiss her neck and pull her in closer to him. 

She breathed in the scent of his shampoo and let her hand not lodged in his hair, wander his shoulder and chest. He stopped kissing her neck and collar bone and she moved away. His face twisted in panic, until he realized she was undoing her shirt. She was shuffling down his body, fighting with the tangle of cloth trapping her arms. She moved lower until she was seated on his shins, throwing her shirt off in some direction to the floor. Her eyes were dark and hungry and looked at his cock, then his face. "Can I...touch you?" she asked, looking at his eyes, then eyeing his erection. 

"Yes...god..." he said, nodding his head and clenching his hands into his bed sheets. She lowered herself and nuzzled his thighs, breathing in his soap as she let her tongue dart out and lick at the root of his cock. His hands held so fast to the sheets that his knuckles turned white. It had been a long time since she'd had sex, but she was good at it, and she cared for Hardy deeply. She wanted to make this so good for him. She licked his balls and took them into her mouth one at a time, eliciting delicious noises of helplessness from Alec. Finally, she brought her hand to grip his cock and kissed the shining, leaking head. He was dangerously close to entering hyperventilation territory. "Millah..." he said reverently. She began sucking him in earnest and he squeaked and squirmed and tried very hard not to come. 

His vision began to blur out. 

'Ahh, fuck, not now,' he thought desperately. Now was not the time to have a heart problem and pass out. No. No. No. His breathing was like a rough sea, crashing breaths and unsteady gasps. She pulled her mouth off of him and looked at him. His eyes were scrunched up in pain. 

"God, are you okay?" 

"Pills," he said, nodding towards the bathroom. "Get the pills in the - bathroom -" he struggled to finish. She scrambled off of him and launched herself towards the bathroom. "Cupboard," he said weakly. He heard her frantic hands crashing around and a relieved gasp when she found what she was looking for. She rushed back to the bedroom. Hardy's head was thrown back, that look of anguish still there. He lifted his hand, but it flopped back down uselessly. "Two," he said, then opened his mouth. Her shaking fingers pressed into the foil and popped out one pill, then another. She put them in Hardy's mouth and she looked around for a water. Finding a glass on the nightstand, she seized it and held it to his lips as he swallowed.

After he took the pills, he closed his eyes and tried for some steadier breaths. 

"This isn't a good idea." 

His eyes shot open. Panic written into them plain as day. 

"'S i-tis," he said. "Please," the word came out strangled. He still sat against the headboard and lifted his head forward only to slam it back once - twice - three times.

"Hardy..." she was on the bed again, her hand coming to keep him from continuing to bang his head against the wood. 

He let out a choked sob. His face was turned away from her. She moved to straddle him again, hovering above him, too scared to put her weight on him. Her hands went to his face...tried to turn it towards her, but he kept it away and tears slipped down his cheeks. He felt so much frustration and anguish and anger. 

"Talk to me," she pleaded. 

"Ae want you," he said in a small voice, twisted and breaking. 

"I want you too," she said sadly. "I don't want you to have a heart attack though..." she said, the words feeling thick and sticky in her throat. "If something happened to you..." now it was her turn to try on a pained voice. He rolled his head and looked at her. "I can't lose you," she said softly, a tear falling, catching on the corners of her sad smile.

"Tha medicine'll work," he said, letting his hands come back to her. Without her shirt, he could now feel her skin and it sent electric want tingling up his fingers. "Please...don stop Millah...Ellie..."

Hearing her first name from him twisted her soul around like a washcloth being rung out. She ran a hand through his hair and cradled his head to her chest. His fingers dug into her hips and he let out another shaky breath as he listened to her steady heartbeat. "Please..." he begged into her chest. "Aye'll tell you 'f I need to stop...I promise." He couldn't help but bargain right now. Fuck his condition. Fuck its ability to take away all that he wanted. His job...his ability to drive...this...with Ellie... 'So what if I die,' he thought. 'This isn't a bad way to go...in Miller-er-Ellie's arms.

"...Ae...need you..." he said so quietly that he himself almost couldn't hear the words. She pulled back from his embrace and looked at his face in her hands. He brought his hands up to cup her face as well, dragging himself forward to kiss her. She returned the kiss and poured into it everything she felt for him. How much he annoyed her. How much she hated worrying about him dying. How much she loved his voice and craved his presence. 

They pulled apart, his hands going to her breasts, breathing in deeply as he played with them through the fabric of her bra. Not able to stand it, she reached back and undid the clasp, pulling the fabric away. He dropped his hands as she pulled it off and tossed it away and looked at her such open adoration. Biting his lip again, he moved his hands to her waist, then up, running his fingers and nails along her sides and making her shiver, before moving forward an pulling one taut nipple into his mouth as he kneaded her other breast with his hand. She moaned and moved her hands to undo her pants. She had to break away from him to roll over on the other side of the bed and shuck the trousers down and off her legs. He moved to follow, but she put a hand on his chest. "No...you will stay there...alright?" 

He was frustrated. He couldn't do half of what he wanted to. Okay, not half, but 90%. He would follow her orders though - if it meant having this. He stayed with his back against the headboard and waited for her to straddle him again. 

"'S this a one off thing?" he asked suddenly. Her breath caught in her throat. 

"Do you want it to be?" she asked. 

He shook his head 'no,' and relief coursed through her. "Good," she breathed.

"I'll ruin it though...I always do."

"You are right now," she said. "Stop thinking and start rubbing my clit." 

He let out a wounded noise and pulled her back to him, lavishing her other breast with attention. 

His cock kept bumping against her ass and she felt wildly desperate to filled with it - to be joined with him. He brought his shaking fingers to her thigh and slid his fingers along her folds. She gripped his hair and groaned into his neck. He rubbed at her clit with his thumb and slid two fingers into her clenching warmth. She rocked against him and kissed his neck. He tried to keep control of his breathing - of his heart - but it was hard. He crooked his fingers in her and set a rhythm of sliding in and out while rubbing her clit. She made the most delightful noises into his neck and then returned to kissing him. She was so close...so close...but not quite there. Filled, but not full. 

"I want you inside of me," she broke the kiss to say. He nodded yes, then his gaze was downcast. "S - sounds...silly but...I don't want...I don't want a condom...."

"Good, me neither," she said, and his head snapped up, that beautiful mix of pain and hope swirling on his face. " I want you to come in me Alec." His eyes flew shut and he took in a raggedy breath. He opened his eyes again when he felt her cool hand on his cock and watched her shift over him, lining them up. 

"Imma... not goin to last long..." he said, embarassed. 

"'S fine. Me neither," she said, rubbing the head of his cock along her wet entrance. His fingers dug sharply into her thighs as his head smacked back, this time biting his top lip. He could barely stand it. He had no idea he'd wanted her this bad. He knew he wanted her - knew it for a long time - but he also knew that he's no good with people. No good with relationships. And she'd already been through so much. But...well...maybe this was selfish of him, to let himself have her...but...it was like the sun rising. It was inevitable.

She sank down on him and he wanted to cry. His chest heaved, and she didn't move for a while - letting him catch his breath. He was longer and thicker than Joe and she hated that she was comparing him to her monster of an ex-husband. This wasn't about Joe. This was about Alec Hardy. What she felt for him. What they had. Something pure and good even against the backdrop of evil and darkness. 

Finally, she moved upwards and then sank back down on him. He wanted to snap his hips to meet her, but she put her hands on his waist and demanded that he not over do it. 

"Fuck Ellie," he said, an octave higher than usual. She was a sight, bouncing on his cock that now glistened with her wetness. The little mewls she made, the way her breasts bounced with her movement. He could have died right then and been just fine with it. 

She ground against him and clenched her walls around him and held him close as his hands scrabbled for purchase and his broken words echoed his affections. "'Sorry...I haf ta...come...I..."

"It's okay," she soothed. "Come. Fill me up." 

He cried out her name and emptied himself inside of her. "Ellie..."

"I know." She put his head on her shoulder and let him breathe before kissing him. 

"You...didn't come...and..."

"It's fine."

"It's not," he said adamently. "I...can you lie on your back? I want to...taste you...make you come." 

"You don't have to."

"I want to. Please Ellie." 

She nodded and lifted herself off him, his softening cock slipping from her and making her feel instantly empty. She laid on her back. "Are you sure it's not too much. You need to..."

"Don't tell me what i need. I know what I need," he finally moved from his position against the headboard. "I need to taste you." 

She groaned at the words and let her legs fall open. With Joe she wasn't self conscious because they'd been together so long. But now - with Hardy - she worried. She wasn't as young as she used to be, she wasn't as taut, her tummy wasn't flat...

"What're you thinkin right now," he asked, caressing her thighs. "I can hear you thinkin." 

"Sorry." 

"Don't be sorry - jus tell me."

She gulped. He dipped his head and licked at her clit. She took a deep breath in and made a satisfied sound at the back of her throat. 

"I can feel you worryin," he said. "Is it because...I...I'm not..."

"No, it's not you." 

"Then whatisit?" 

"It's been a long time and...I'm not...I don't feel very...attractive."

His head snapped up. "Are you kiddin me?" he squeaked. His eyebrows did a funny little dance; first appearing incredulous then angered then soft. "You...you're beautiful," he said, jaw working, gaze intense. "You're paerfect. Ellie," he punctuated the words by sliding down farther on the bed and bringing his mouth to her sex. He hooked hands around her thighs and dragged her even closer to him, licking her from her dripping cunt to her clit. She heard him muttering things down there, something to the effect of "paerfect" and "beaut'ful." His tongue worked against her, ravishing her, tasting her, tasting himself in her, moaning against her sex, pushing fingers inside and setting a rhythm until her body was shaking and her orgasm came crashing upon her. Her hands were in his hair, and she shook and arched off the bed as she came. 

When she was done coming, he continued rubbing and nuzzling against her mound and felt little aftershocks roll through her. His fingers were wet and pruning and he sucked at the bud of nerves until she tried to squirm away...but he only held her in place more firmly and pushed his tongue into her entrance, hitting her clit with his nose until she howled and came again. 

He was pushing himself to his limits and finally surfaced, crawling up the bed to her. 

"You're hard again," she noticed, stroking him. He held onto her and prayed that he wouldn't die right now. 

"This is too much," she said. "Too much for your heart." 

"Nah, it'isnt. Please..." 

She rolled away from him and he panicked, but then she reached back and grasped his cock, lifting a thigh and lining him up with her again. He pushed inside and rocked against her; his arms coiled around her body and toying with her breasts as he slowly fucked into her. 

They stayed like that for five minutes or so until she said, "Come Alec..." 

He bit into her shoulder and came on command with a quivering groan. 

She pulled away once more and he felt cold at the loss, until she returned, this time to face him and wrap her arms around him. 

"We just had sex," he said with disbelief.

"Yeah. Twice," she added. 

"I'm your boss." 

"Oh shut up," she pulled him against her. "Now's not the time to panic." 

"I cannae lose you," he said. 

"You won't," she ran a comforting hand up and down his back. "You won't lose me." 

He buried his head against her and let himself close his eyes and reach towards sleep. His heart still stuttered in his chest, but he liked listening to hers - steady and unflinching. 

"Wha's gonna happen?" he yawned.

"I dunno," she answered. "But we'll face it together."


End file.
